The Wizard's Daughter
by Rae-Bloody-Grace
Summary: Just playing with a little thought I had. Isaak's such an interesting character that was begging to be poked. There's so many things we don't know about him, and I completely imagined him as the type to have a daughter...
1. Prologue

Finding himself alone within his inter-dimension of twisting shadows and nightmarish creations, Kampfer closed his eyes and sunk into a sitting position. _I underestimated that Killing Doll, although luckily the damages are minimal. And I still need to take care of the Count of Zagrev. How troublesome… _He silently thought to himself, allowing his handless arms drop to his side, before feeling familiar company standing over him.

Tilting his head back slightly, he opened his eyes to acknowledge the girl's presence. Blue-grey eyes returned acknowledgement. Isaak also saw the loving mockery, but he said nothing; he probably deserved it. Thin red lips curled into a mischievous grin and formed the equally mocking words spoken by a young soprano. Entranced by her venomously undertoned voice and dripping sarcasm, he nearly flinched at the sharpness of each syllable.

"You should listen to your own lectures on carelessness. Maybe then you'd stay in one piece."

The Wizard remained silent. It wasn't that he couldn't think of anything to say, as he had a fine scolding for her. He simply figured he would save it for later, after his hands had been regenerated. After all, what fun would it be to chide his disrespectful daughter if he didn't have a hand with which to pull her ear?

The girl knelt next to Isaak, brushing back a few strands of her long black hair. She spoke again as she gently cradled his bloody wrists in her small hands.

"You seem rather gloomy. You're not usually one to take every mistake so seriously." A red glow emanated from the pentagrams on the girl's gloves and a fluid blackness was beginning to form around the elder Kampfer's wrists. A fiendish smile stretched across the younger's face as she continued, "Although, truthfully, it was a very pathetic mistake."

Isaak's previously dull expression now sharpened somewhat at this direct insult. His right eyebrow twitched slightly and he unintentionally jerked his arms as he resentfully responded,

"What a wicked thing for you to think! Even more wicked for you to say it, Isabella Fae. What a vile child you are, to say ill of your own father!"

"Ah-ah, careful, father dearest," Isabella kept a grip on her father's wrists, which were now completely covered with the gradually expanding darkness, "I'm not finished yet." Her eyes were twinkling with pure mischief; she was completely aware that she wouldn't have gotten away with such disrespect in any normal circumstances without losing at least an arm, probably both. Impish delight played upon the highlights of her alabaster face as she continued the reconstruction of Isaak's hands.

After a few moments, the blackness that Isabella had summoned faded away along with the glowing pentagrams. Kampfer flexed his new, bare hands and smiled in approval. "Ah, well done my dear," he complimented his daughter as he stood up, "a very well performed regeneration."

Isabella smirked as she handed her father a pair of gloves embroidered in the same manner as hers. "You know what people say, that some things just run in the family."

Wizard chuckled in mild amusement as he fastened his gloves. "Indeed my dear. Like father, like daughter." Pushing back a strand of hair, he glanced back at his daughter and added, "Although you seem to have failed to inherit much in the matter of respect."

Isabella rolled her eyes and started walking away, bored with the thought of another lecture. "Cry more, old man. At least I didn't inherit your faulty logic, since you don't seem to realize respect is _learned_."

Before she could close her mouth, Isabella found that she had reflexively launched herself into the air. Dodging back into the air every instant she barely touched the ground – whether it was with her foot or her hand didn't matter – she saw, occasionally, the sharp glint of what to an average human would have been an invisible thread, and realized why her reflexes had activated. The painfully keen edge of that thread whipped closer, threatening to dismember a limb or possibly the life of the Wizard's daughter.

...Not that it seemed to bother her. In fact, a wicked smile was stretched across Isabella's face. _What fun, the mono-carbon again… _She was predicting every move Isaak made – everything down to the most minute finger twitch – and reacting accordingly so that she would remain just out of his reach. Probability from previous experience stated which moves were most likely to be made, and within minutes a pattern had been assumed. It was so simple it was—

_—Wait, this undesirable feeling is… _A piercing, almost burning sensation bit into Isabella's side, bringing her string of calculations to a reeling halt. While she prevented herself from flinching, her eyes still darted to the source of what she finally gathered to be pain; he had managed to hit her. Blood ran freely from the two-inch-deep gash down the still-embedded filament. _How…?_ While it wasn't impossible, probability stated that there was a less than 2% chance of a different move. Somehow, he had managed to hit that less than 2%.

While Isabella struggled to ignore the intense pulse of pain as she twisted away from the thread and pushed off of the ground again, she tried to restart her calculations while keeping in mind how much time she'd have left before fainting if her bleeding didn't stop. Each move she made now brought her closer to her father; her priority now shifted to disabling him in order to buy time to heal herself. The pain, now radiating up to her chest and down to her hip, reminded her of this priority every time she touched the ground.

Abruptly, just as Isabella reached for the vital disabling point, she lost all feeling in her limbs. As she fell limp to the ground, she was able to feel the tangled fibers tightening around her neck. The pain in her side diminished to a dull sensation of pressure despite her still moderate bleeding. As long as she didn't struggle, the mono-carbon wouldn't cut, but the increasing tightness pressed on her nerves and rendered her helpless in moving. _Ah, that fatal mistake, I made it again…_

"I see you've still failed to adjust your attention pattern." Isaak looked down at his daughter with little of any emotion in his black eyes. "If you continue to drop your guard within that crucial time frame of reaching a target…" He trailed off, narrowing his eyes slightly as if expecting a response. When he received none, he tugged gently on the mono-carbon fibers wrapped around his fingers and watched Isabella jerk in a short spasm. "Aren't you going to say anything, daughter dearest? Your vocal chords aren't paralyzed like everything else, and I know how you _enjoy_ my lectures."

Isabella's eyes were dull with obvious boredom. For a short time she just stared at her father before finally answering, "While your lectures _are_ incredibly dry, they're well deserved in this scenario. I obviously failed to learn the lesson; therefore the lesson should be repeated, _nein_?"

Isaak simply shrugged. "_Ja_, but that hasn't stopped you previously from saying anything."

"Perhaps I'm bored with this and would prefer to stay in one piece for once. I'm not really in the mood for any more unnecessary regenerations." The girl glanced at the wound in her side, which had finally stopped bleeding.

"I was beginning to wonder if you would ever grow tired of this foolishness." Satisfied that his daughter was done with her "games", Isaak released the tension on the mono-carbon.

Isabella winced as the full, throbbing pain of the gash returned. Carefully she slipped two fingers between the still dangerously sharp mono-carbon and her throat. Meticulously unweaving the tangled fibers, she loosened the loop enough to safely pull her head out of it. The soft hiss of the mono-carbon slicing through her gloves prompted her not to be overly hasty.

Isaak watched Isabella free herself, and halfheartedly advised her when he saw a small trickle of blood follow one of the interlaced fibers, "When you have ample time to accomplish a task, there's no need to rush. If you need to, utilize every available second rather than risk sacrificing an appendage or worse."

The girl merely shrugged as she tossed the mono-carbon aside. She tightly clutched her side as she struggled against the pain to sit up. Through clenched teeth she responded, "Better a finger or two, which can be regenerated, than my head, which can't."

Isaak sighed, seeming disappointed. "While that's true, it shows that you're still depending too much on being able to regenerate almost anything you lose from your carelessness. Everybody has limits, even you; I know you can't completely heal that gash in your side." He watched as his daughter stubbornly tried to keep healing herself despite the mentioned gash ceasing to respond after healing only halfway. "You need to be able to act in a more reserved fashion. You can't just keep charging in headfirst and expect to always be able to temporarily weasel your way out to patch yourself up. You'll only tire yourself out like you're doing now, only possibly with more lethal results. For the moment, though, the worst you're going to face is the inability to stand or walk, or unconsciousness."

"I love you too," Isabella sourly muttered, finally giving up on the partially-healed wound. Shakily, she managed to stand up, but with her first step her vision blurred and she found herself reacquainted with the ground. Clumsily she tried to stand again, but with the same result.

Isaak shook his head slightly at his daughter's stubborn attempts. However, the slightest curve of a smile overtook the corners of his thin lips. His never-shining black eyes lost focus for a moment as he watched her repeat the cycle of standing and falling after one step. _She always has to do things for herself. She's so determined… just like her—_

"Wake up, old man. Daydreaming about the days past isn't going to help either one of us. Besides, it's not like you anyways."

The sour outburst, combined with the sudden weight of his daughter on his shoulder, instantly broke the Wizard from his thought. Wrapping his arm around her waist to support her, he quietly answered, "No, it's not." There was a short moment of silence as they started walking, then Isaak spoke again, "Oh, one more thing." He reached his other hand across and tugged on Isabella's ear.

"What the hell was that for?!" The girl shouted in pain and twisted her head away.

"You know very well what that was for. You know better than to be listening to my private thoughts, or anyone else's for that matter!"

Grumpily, the girl replied, "I can't help when you're thinking loud enough for me to hear it without trying," yelping when Isaak pulled her ear again. "I'm serious! Do you _really_ think I would purposefully go through your thoughts again? They're so _boring_… Ah-ah-aaah, let go, let go already! You're going to rip it off!" Screaming, she reflexively tried shoving her father away to get her ear released.

Isaak didn't flinch, although he did let go of Isabella's ear. "Why can't you ever let anything go? That big mouth of yours is going to get you killed from friendly fire one of these days."

Lightly rubbing her now very red and painful ear, Isabella turned her face away from Isaak and breathlessly muttered, "I'll at least lose an ear… AUGH, alright I'll be quiet!" Swatting Isaak's hand away yet again, Isabella's shouts trickled down to a mass of non-understandable—although very obviously grumpy—mutterings.

Isaak, now seeming cheerful, which was very odd, replied, "I love you too."


	2. Chapter 1

"So, Professor, I understand you've been considering breaking ties with us." The young lady sitting across the table from Doctor Jaime Dominic, the hiding Professor James Barrie, swirled her wine glass before taking a sip. "This is such an inopportune time."

Barrie tried to keep from tensing. There was something about this girl that made him anxious. He tried to buy sufficient time to regain his composure on such a fragile negotiation.

"Where is Kampfer? Why may I not speak directly to the man I am doing business with?" The professor swallowed hard when he saw the impish glint in the girl's eyes. She had caught him, without so much from her as a blink.

Isabella smirked as she stretched out her arms behind her back. She knew exactly what was going on in the professor's mind. However, she didn't want to break him so quickly. She tossed back her flowing black hair and sat up in her chair. The finely dressed young woman humored the nervous man's question.

"He had some other business to take care of and was unable to be an audience to you. However, he still felt it was necessary that you expressed your concerns to us as soon as possible. That's why I'm here."

Barrie was completely terrified by now. The calmness of this girl, no, this demon, had torn his nerves to shreds. A bead of sweat trickled down the professor's pale face. Such a quick-witted and clever demon had made him utterly fear for his life. He was unable to determine if any action he made, or even an act of God for that matter, could safeguard his life.

"You don't look to be feeling well, Professor." Isabella took another sip of wine. Her voice had softened and sweetly flowed. Such a change in her demeanor further sickened the professor. "Perhaps we should speak again when you are feeling better." Even the mischievous sparkle in her eyes had dulled to a calm understanding.

The professor strained his voice as to not let his overwhelming nausea get the better of him.

"Yes, I do believe that would be best. I'm terribly sorry Miss… Miss…?" Barrie realized then that this whole time he'd been there he had never acquired the name of this beautiful but witchy young woman.

"Kampfer. My apologies, dear Professor." Isabella laughed slightly and finished her glass of wine. She then stood and proceeded to courteously bow. "Miss Isabella Fae von Kampfer. How rude of me not to introduce myself when we first met." The proud and mischievous glint had returned, dancing brighter than ever before in her blue-grey eyes.

Professor Barrie stumbled as he rose from his chair, his face bleached near-white. He stood and gawked at this lady Kampfer. Suddenly all the stark similarities between her and the Kampfer that Barrie knew became clear to him. The calm businessperson personality could have been easily looked over. However, the straight, flowing hair and the distinctive nose, so unmistakable, had completely eluded Barrie until that moment.

"You should probably get home and take care of what is ailing you."

"Wh-why, yes," Barrie stammered as he moved towards the door, "I just need some sleep."

Isabella smiled thinly. "Alright then, get some sleep and call when you're feeling well enough for another meeting."

After the professor had left, Isabella poured herself another glass of wine and sat back down. She drew in a slow sip, savoring the complexity of flavors and aromas. Once she set her glass down, the wizard's daughter leaned her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand.

"Father was planning to use this man to get my toy into Rome… But this Professor Barrie seems too unreliable." Isabella let out a small sigh. "He needs to be eliminated."


	3. Chapter 2

Abel trudged away from the restaurant with his hands in tight fists. Leon had been so heartless when it had come to Noelle. His callous attitude toward her death had hurt Abel on so many levels. The punch to the poor priest's face only added insult to injury. It was completely uncalled for, and caused quite an unnecessary upset of those dining. He felt especially bad for those whose table he had crashed into. Abel loosened his fists. He sighed and gently touched the swollen lump that was his cheek. He winced.

"Such rude people at that restaurant, don't you think, Father? They had no respect for a priest that was only doing what was natural and mourning the loss of someone very close."

Abel jumped and turned around. There behind him stood a sophisticated looking girl. She was somewhere in her late teens, and her exquisite red vest and pristinely creased dress pants showed her to be of a very noble family, possibly a musician.

"Ah," Abel was taken aback by the young woman's looks and her amiable nature, "So you understand?"

"Of course," the girl gave a warm smile, "I couldn't help but to overhear, with that boisterous priest going on about everything. Come; let's sit down on this bench. No point standing here in the middle of everything!" Her fluttering laughter was enough to ease the pain of Father Nightroad's heavy, aching heart to a degree.

After they had sat down the girl continued. "What you did was only part of human nature," she rested her long, slender fingers on the priest's shoulder, "and there's nothing wrong with that. Even a wandering priest such as yourself has someone to care about and grieve for."

Abel heaved a heavy sigh. "That's true. I guess I just felt that I couldn't go on without her." He bowed his head and wept. "I'm such a fool!"

The young woman softly stroked the weeping priest's silver hair and patiently replied, "No, that's not true. You're not a fool. There's absolutely nothing wrong with conveying your emotions stronger than others."

"There isn't?" The priest sniffled a little and attempted to regain his composure.

"Of course not, silly. We're all different, that's just the way we are."

"Ah." This girl had shown such compassion and understanding that Abel was unsure of how to respond.

"There is one thing, though," the girl matched her eyes up with the father's.

"Oh?" Abel felt trapped in the girl's soft gaze. "What is that?"

"It's really a simple thing. I'm just wondering, what would this woman, the one you lost, think of you abandoning your cause just because of her death? Wouldn't she be disappointed?"

Abel closed his eyes tightly. This girl spoke the truth, but he didn't want to admit it.

"I'm sorry Father, am I getting too personal?"

"No, it's not that. It's just… Well, you're completely right. She'd probably chew me out for being such a blubbering dope!" Abel laughed nervously at the thought, but he calmed down quickly. "You're right though. I need to stop complaining and act like a man about this!" He jumped from the bench with replenished motivation. "Thank you very much, I'm…" The priest stared in disbelief. The girl he had been talking to for a good while was no longer there. He heard a light laugh and turned, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Abel slumped back onto the bench. "Am I going mad? That nice young lady, was she ever there to begin with?"

* * *

"And just where have you been, my dear?" Wizard kept a calm voice, but his twitching eyebrow betrayed his annoyance toward his daughter.

Isabella smiled with venomous innocence. She was hardly intimidated. "I only went into town, that is all. Is there something wrong with that?" She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers.

Kampfer's eyebrow twitched harder in response. He clearly did not want to put up with Isabella. "I clearly stated earlier that Dietrich and I had some important business and you were to stay here until we were finished, did I not?"

"Oh, but it's so boring here. Besides, I helped you by stabilizing that pathetic priest, so he might actually rise to your bait." The girl smiled wickedly.

Kampfer narrowed his eyes. "How dare you insult my work. Even more disrespectful for you to make alterations!" He raised his hand as if to strike his daughter, but was stopped.

"Oh come now, Wizard. She only did it out of concern for you." Dietrich gave a warm smile and released Kampfer's arm, "She's guaranteed that the circumstances will be met. What would you have done if this "god", as you call him, did not rise to the bait?"

Wizard didn't answer. He simply lit a cigarillo and left, glancing back in displeasure at Isabella and Dietrich.

"I don't see why he's so unhappy." Isabella pursed her lips in a pout.

"Ah, now that's the strange thing about artists," Dietrich smirked, "They despise criticism, even if they know it is true."

The young lady Kampfer shrugged a bit. "Ah, well, he'll probably thank me later. I put so much work into what I did to help him. Dear Lord, that priest is so pathetic!"


	4. Chapter 3

"Abel, is something wrong? You seem so distant now." The Duchess of Milan gazed up at her companion with motherly concern. She leaned further against the obelisk.

The priest rubbed his temples. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I guess you could say I'm questioning my sanity at this point." He weakly smiled, but that made him seem even more detached from the present.

Caterina furrowed her brows deeply. This was so unlike Abel. "That doesn't sound like the Abel I know. Something must be really bothering you. Would you care to share your grieves with me?" She hardened her gaze towards her friend. If something this serious was going to get in the way of Father Nightroad's sacred duty, it had to be addressed right away.

Abel heaved an awkward sigh and sat down next to his superior. "This is going to sound incredibly strange, but…" he paused. Would Caterina believe him?

"But what? I wish I had more time to wait, but I promised His Holiness I'd be back for closing prayers."

"Well… There was this girl. After the incident in the restaurant, this girl was talking to me. She seemed to understand how I was feeling and if was really nice, but…" Abel shook his head, "but when I turned around to thank her, she had disappeared!"

The Woman of Steel raised an eyebrow. This information was hard for her to process. "But that's not possible."

"I know…" The priest bowed his head. "I sound like a babbling madman, but it's true."

Caterina smiled softly and patted Abel's shoulder. "I believe you. It's difficult, but I know you wouldn't like to me about this." She blinked as a thought came to her mind. "What did this girl look like?" She had a miniscule suspicion, but it was worth a try.

Abel closed his eyes and tried to remember. "Well, let's see. She was finely dressed, I figured her to be the daughter of some artist or musician. She had long, black hair–" As the image flickered in his mind, Abel's face paled.

"What's wrong, Abel?" The Woman of Steel quivered at her subordinate's sudden change in demeanor. She had the gnawing feeling that her suspicion was correct.

The priest's face went blank. "That man. In Barcelona. The one that killed Noelle and destroyed the city. There's a strong resemblance. A very strong resemblance." His expression changed to a mix of terror and anger.

"Oh how lovely, a child of the Orden." Caterina rubbed her temples. Her lack of sleep made it even harder to process such difficult information. That terrorist from the Venice incident, he has a daughter?

The Duchess of Milan's thoughts scattered again as the nine o' clock bell rang. "Ah, well, it's time. A promise is a promise. Poor Alec's probably terrified by now."

Abel watched as his superior strode gracefully across the plaza. Once she was out of sight, the priest slouched and sighed, trying to piece everything together. His mind was spinning from so many thoughts and feelings. Such kindness, from an Orden member? Is it a trap?

"Hello, Father."

"Huh?" Abel looked up. He saw the slim silhouette of a young woman sitting on the top of the obelisk. "Impossible…"

"Abel. That's such a pretty name." The figure shifted, allowing her face to be highlighted. She gave a sly smile and brushed a strand of black hair from her softly flickering eyes. "My name is Isabella. A bit old fashioned, but I like it just fine."

"You!" Abel jumped from where he was sitting. He quickly rested his hand on the percussion revolver at his hip, but didn't raise it from its holster. He knew that if a gunshot was heard, the plaza would be overrun with Carabinieri and the Ministry of Inquisition.

Isabella raised her hands and laughed. "Why so hostile now, Father?" She slid from the obelisk, her heels making a sharp click when she landed. "I only came to make sure my toy arrived here undamaged. I don't like loaning my things out to clients, but that's not my decision."

"Your toy?" Abel was puzzled, but didn't allow it to show.

Isabella took a couple strides and twirled a strand of hair in her fingers. "Ah, well, my father gave it some fancy, poetic name. 'Silent Noise', I think he calls it. It's just a small thing I made in my spare time; I don't see why it needs a special name."

The priest stared in stark disbelief. "YOU created the Silent Noise?" There's no way this girl could have created such an advanced device, unless she's some kind of super genius! Abel took a step back.

The girl turned to Abel and gave a wicked smile. "The principle's been around for ages; it was even studied before Armageddon. All I did was test if those studies could yield results. I was bored, and the concept intrigued me."

Abel didn't respond. Instead, he fell to his knees staring blankly. He felt no feeling or control of his body. The state of shock he had fallen into had temporarily shut down his entire nervous system. It had only taken a calm explanation from a mere girl to blind, deafen, mute, and completely debilitate the priest. Abel fell flat on his face without a feeling, without a sound, without a breath. His nonfunctioning nervous system had also triggered respiratory arrest.

"Hm… Doesn't take much to scare this one." Isabella furrowed her brows. Her eyes glimmered with a rare concern. She took a quick glance around before laying the priest on his back. She gently pressed her first two fingers against the priest's temples as the pentagrams illuminated on her gloves. Isabella didn't move while Abel's body convulsed as his nervous system was jump-started.

After a few seconds the priest was breathing again. Isabella watched as Abel turned his head and moaned. Another second passed and the priest's winter blue eyes opened in confusion.

"Wha…" Abel weakly looked up at Isabella and tried to focus his eyes.

"Farewell, Father," Isabella brushed Abel's silver hair from his face as her body melted into her shadow, "I'm certain we'll meet again."

In a slight delirium the priest reached for Isabella. "No, wait…" But it was too late. The girl was gone. Abel remained lying on the ground as his thoughts recollected. "Kampfer… Silent Noise… Isabella… bells…"

* * *

Isabella paced in her room with uncertainty. She knew it was highly unlikely her father would find out what had happened, since he had been busy with his client. Still, something was etching away her confidence. There was a hard ball of doubt in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't explain.

A worried mew interrupted Isabella's contemplation. A black kitten looked up at the wizard's daughter with confusion and concern. She let out another mew and stood against Isabella's slender leg.

"Oh, Rose," Isabella picked up the kitten and sat on her bed, "I'm sorry I'm getting you worried." She softly stroked the kitten. "It's just… That priest, there's something about him. I don't know what, but there's something about him that makes me question my purpose. He makes me feel like I'm on the wrong side…" She bowed her head, letting her hair cover her face. That's impossible, isn't it? Isn't this my destiny, to succeed my father and carry on his magic?

The girl stood up and brushed back her hair. She proceeded to walk to her dresser. She picked up a small wooden keepsake box from the top of the dresser before sitting back down on her bed. Isabella smiled a bit as Rose curiously sniffed at the box and batted her paw at it. It was nice to have a friend around, even if it was only a kitten.

"Okay, you can stop now," Isabella laughed a little and gently pushed Rose away. The kitten tilted her head to the side as Isabella opened the box.

Inside the box was only one thing. Isabella picked up the small obsidian cross and dangled it by its gold chain. "Dear Mother," she sighed, "I never did know you."


	5. Chapter 4

The Wizard of Machines was slumped against the wall in a broken heap. He had strongly underestimated the Crusnik's power. Kampfer had lost most feeling in his body. He wouldn't be able to use any of his magic; his death was imminent.

"Tsk, tsk, father dearest! It was you who told me to never underestimate an opponent. Now look what you've done! You're such a mess!"

Abel and Caterina turned to the direction of the arrogantly scolding voice. Kampfer attempted. A slender young woman emerged from behind a stone cross with her hands folded. Her heels made a soft clicking noise as she walked. She was wearing a black cuffed shirt under a fancy red vest along with crisply creased black pants. Abel immediately recognized her.

"You again!"

Caterina noted Abel's strong reaction. "So you are…"

"Isabella Fae von Kampfer." The girl bowed toward Caterina before turning to Abel. "Father always said you were a strong one, Crusnik. Clearly, though, his meaning of strength was a bit lacking." Isabella calmly sauntered toward Kampfer.

The monster that Abel had become barely hesitated. He made the air shriek with the speed he was bringing his scythe down upon Isabella. It was all in vain, though. The scythe suddenly stopped at an invisible wall. Abel growled in annoyance. iSo she has a shield also…/i His attempt hadn't even misplaced a hair on the girl's head. He increased the force upon the shield but Isabella's shield was clearly stronger than the one Wizard possessed. Abel's ruby eyes shone with pure contempt against the deceptive girl.

Isabella remained calm and tossed back her hair as she kneeled beside Kampfer. She seemed unfazed by her father's chest being split wide open. As she let down her shield, everyone in the room felt the ground tremble from the sheer force with which Abel's scythe struck the floor.

"So dear father, what fatal mistake did you make this time?" Isabella smirked as she gently lifted Kampfer's arms from his open chest cavity. "It must have been very drastic, from the condition you're in."

Wizard coughed. His dull eyes were fixed upon his daughter. "Ah, well, I'll admit I was a tad bit unprepared." He broke into a coughing fit as his chest began to tingle from Isabella's regeneration spell.

"You, unprepared? What could have you so unprepared?" Isabella suddenly felt the hair raise on the back of her neck. iWait a minute. This kind of electrical discharge…/i

"Spark-gap impact."

It was too late. The second she turned, the daughter was struck with the sword of Justice just as her father had been. The force of the blast tossed Isabella into the air, tore open her chest and split the crown of her head. With a shriek of anguish she fell like a ragdoll into the gigantic fissure below. Her high-pitched voice echoed for a few seconds. After that, the whole room was swallowed by silence.

Kampfer casually stood up and brushed himself off. His unnervingly tranquil voice broke the silence. "Your promise, Father Nightroad, what do you make of it now?" He peered down the fissure where Isabella fell. There was no emotion on his face or in his voice, just calmness.

Abel let the scythe slip from his hands. His wings had disappeared, and his eyes had returned to the color of a winter lake. Disbelief was plastered on his face. "I…" He glanced back at Caterina.

The Duchess of Milan just stared at Abel, causing her monocle to fall. "Abel did you… You didn't, did you?!"

Abel shook his head rapidly. He stared into the silent blackness of the fissure. "No! I, I…"

Wizard pushed back a strand of hair. "I do believe this is my time to exit."

"Negative." Eighteen bullets ripped through the air. Had Kampfer not deployed the Shield of Asmoday, his head would have been riddled with holes. A young man with an expressionless face dropped the spent cartridges from his pistols before replacing them.

"Tres!" Caterina reaffixed her monocle.

"Isn't that grand? However, I don't have time for a petty squabble with you, Gunslinger." Wizard was already sunk far into his shadow. Tres fired another eighteen rounds, but it was too late. Kampfer was gone.

Tres lowered his pistols. "Rewriting tactical thoughts from assault mode to search mode." He turned to Caterina. "Damage report, Duchess of Milan."

"I'm alright, Tres."

"Acknowledged. Father Nightroad, damage report."

Abel didn't answer. He was still staring into the plunging blackness of the fissure. He didn't notice Tres approach him. Instead, a soft red glow from the bottom of the fissure and the click of Tres readying his handguns brought the priest back to attention.

"Movement detected."

"Wait, Tres!" Abel grabbed his companion's arm. "Maybe we should investigate first."

"Request acknowledged." Tres put away his handguns and jumped into the fissure. Abel followed him down into the darkness.

When both priests had landed Tres pulled out a flashlight. The white beam of light pierced the darkness. Abel heard a small gasp and slightly labored breathing coming from a few meters away, and Tres was already in search of the source. Abel quickly followed as to not be left in blackness. iShe's still alive, for now…/i

After several meters of cautiously walking over rubble, Gunslinger stopped. As Abel caught up, he saw Tres shining the flashlight at something, or rather, someone. A quivering figure lay in the white beam. Bloodied black hair was pasted over her face, and her arms were crossed over her bare, partially split open chest. Even in complete ruin, Abel still recognized her.

"Isabella…"

The figure raised her head. The light reflected sharply in her watery eyes. Abel could see the girl had attempted to heal herself, but it had only done so much. Her head wound was still seeping with fresh blood, and the split in her chest had left a huge scar and a couple ribs showing where the gouge had failed to completely heal. The arrogant Wizard's daughter now seemed so frail; her face bore the expression of a terrified child. But anyone could sympathize with her while staring up the barrel of Gunslinger's pistol.

"What are you doing, Tres?!" Abel clung to the deadpan priest's arm.

"This girl is a member of Rosenkreuz Orden. She is also involved in Archbishop d'Este's plot. She must be eliminated. Why are you defending her, Father Nightroad?"

The silver-haired priest released his companion's arm. Tres was correct. Defending this girl could be taken as high treason. Still, there was something…

"He's right, Father," Isabella coughed, her mouth stained with blood, "After all I've done, perhaps the only way to atone for my sins is with my death." The fear in her eyes subsided to a calm acceptance. Her sincerity was genuine. "I would repent, but it probably wouldn't be enough."

At this, Abel felt that he now had a reason to prevent the girl's death. "Tres, please wait. There are a few things I wish to clarify with her."

Tres didn't verbally respond. However, he lowered his pistol.

Abel smiled at Tres before sitting next to Isabella. His voice was gentle as he questioned her, "Truly, would you repent?"

The girl nodded and coughed again. After her fit had stopped she asked her own question. "Father, will God really forgive me for everything?"

"Of course he will." The priest smiled warmly and brushed Isabella's matted hair from her face. He felt joy in his heart from having the chance to rescue this girl from her demonic past.

A puzzled look took over his face as he noticed Isabella taking something from her pocket. His face didn't change when he saw the small cross. "Where did you get that?"

"I found it when I was young," the girl's face darkened with memories, "I think it was my mother's."

"Ah." Abel didn't know what to say. He could tell that Isabella knew little if anything about her mother. "It's very beautiful."

"I know." A tear cleaned a streak on her ruddy cheek. iI just wish I knew something about her…/i Isabella blinked when she noticed the priest had gingerly taken the necklace from her hand. "What are you doing?"

The dopey priest smiled widely as he fastened the gold chain around Isabella's neck. "Well, it's a beautiful cross, and you're a beautiful young lady, I just figured the two should go together!"

Isabella returned a small smile. If it weren't for her current modesty predicament she would have hugged the priest. Her smile widened when Abel placed his coat on her pale shoulders.

"There. Now you don't have to worry about keeping yourself covered while we climb out of here."

The smile remained on Isabella's face as she fastened the coat. It was a little large, but it still felt better than being exposed to the cold air.

"Ah, so Tres," Abel turned to Gunslinger, "We'll take this girl, Isabella Fae von Kampfer, into custody and have her questioned on the archbishop's plans and the Silent Noise."

"Affirmative." At last Tres put away the pistol he had been holding the whole time.

Isabella was relieved. Yet she still seemed uneasy about something. Abel noticed her uneasiness.

"What's wrong?"

The girl shook here head. "It's just… I need to use my magic once more, before I abandon it completely. I need to retrieve something that's very important to me."

Abel gave out a small sigh. "Very well then…"

"I promise, I'm not planning anything." Isabella's face twisted with worry that Abel still didn't trust her. Still, she rested her bloody, gloved hands on the ground. The pentagrams on her gloves dully glowed as a small shape rose from pure blackness. The girl smiled as the kitten looked around in confusion.

"A kitten?"

"Yes, a kitten, AND documents on the Silent Noise." She picked up the kitten and handed the folder the kitten had been sitting on to Abel. "And her name is Rose. I don't trust to leave her with Wizard." The girl frowned. She pulled off her gloves and threw them away from her. "Now that that's settled…"

Abel looked up. "Yes. We should get out of here. Caterina's probably wondering what happened to Tres and me."

"Affirmative."

Tres had no trouble climbing his way out. He calculated the strength and angle of each foothold to find the best path. Abel made an attempt to follow Tres's path, but he slipped occasionally. Isabella could barely keep up with the two priests. Her delicate hands couldn't always grasp the same holds that Abel and Tres had. Plus, her substantial blood loss from earlier threatened to make her lose consciousness. Still, she kept following as best she could. Rose peeked out occasionally from Isabella's coat pocket.

Caterina watched as she saw Gunslinger emerge from the crevice. She smiled in relief when Abel came up next. "So you're alright…" She paused when she saw Abel reaching back down into the fissure. iWhat's he doing?.../i Once Caterina saw the silver-haired priest pull up Isabella she reflexively stepped back.

Abel panted slightly and looked at his superior. "Now before you go calling guards or anything, let us have our say." He grinned.

The Duchess of Milan sighed. "I expect you have a very good explanation for this." She watched as the shivering girl swayed before falling into a sitting position. iSomething's different about her. It's as if she's a completely different person…/i

"Positive, Duchess of Milan." Tres broke Caterina out of her deep musing. "Isabella Fae von Kampfer gave herself up for questioning exactly seventeen minutes thirty-two seconds ago."

"Just like that? Wasn't there any struggle?"

"Negative."

Abel had opened his mouth to speak, but he quietly closed it again when Isabella raised her head.

The girl spoke weakly but clearly. "Your Eminence, truly I have repented and wish to atone for my sins." Her eyes were dull and almost lifeless; her entire body was motionless except for her shoulders, which quivered and shook with every breath she took.

The Woman of Steel was completely dumbfounded. Isabella's sincerity was remarkable and unbelievable. There didn't seem to be the tiniest trace left of Wizard's daughter.

A small movement caught Caterina's eye. The Duchess of Milan raised an eyebrow when she saw the black kitten tumble out of Isabella's coat pocket. "Should I even ask why you have a kitten with you?" Such a completely random occurrence brought a tiny smile to her lips.

Isabella watched as the kitten scouted out the area. "Her name is Rose. I retrieved her. I just couldn't leave her behind with…" She stopped, refusing the finish the sentence and admit her relations.

"Ah." Caterina carefully scooped up the curious kitten. Rose squirmed in her hands. "She's quite the lively one." She put Rose back down and watched her scurry back to Isabella. There was an awkward silence.

The silence lingered for a moment before being abruptly broken. A large laughing man sauntered into the room carrying some delicate machinery under his arm. Father Leon Garcia de Asturias seemed very pleased with himself. "Haha, I hope I didn't miss anything, Your Eminence!" But as he looked into the room at its occupants and the rubble, the smugness left Dandelion's face. "Aw, I did miss something!" He looked at Isabella with increased confusion. "And just who the heck are you?"

* * *

"You seem rather down." Dietrich lazily looked up at Kampfer. "Are you really that upset about your loss?"

"No, it's not that. I just can't seem to find those documents on the Silent Noise." Wizard had the rare face of irritation, which he usually saved for his daughter. "Daughter dearest must have moved them again." He placed his cigarillo in his mouth.

"Ah, well, that's strange Isaak." Dietrich folded his hands. "You know that stupid kitten of hers? The little brat hasn't bothered me all day. Actually, I haven't seen it all day, either."

Kampfer pushed his cigarillo into the ashtray. "Most suspicious."

"Most suspicious, indeed…"


	6. Chapter 5

_"Who are you?" Isabella stared at the woman in front of her with a powerful gaze._

_The woman smiled softly, her fire blue eyes returning a softer but still equally powerful gaze as she replied, "You know me, sweet one, though you may not realize it." She suddenly looked away. "After all, it's been so many years." The mysterious woman's voice began to fade as she began to wander away from Isabella. "How many years has it been…? Seventeen, no, eighteen…?" Darkness began to surround her as she moved farther away._

_Isabella ran after the woman. There was something strangely familiar about her, something on the subconscious level. "Wait! Please, tell me who are!" she called. As she ran she tried desperately to place the woman. She didn't remember anyone with soft brown hair like that, but the face, especially the woman's eyes, seemed to strike a deep familiarity._

_Strangely, the woman kept just out of Isabella's reach. It was like chasing a ghost. "Remember, dear one, remember." She glanced back at Isabella, her eyes now reflecting years of loneliness and worry in shimmering blue. "Please remember. It saddens me that you cannot, but I will always remember you, my beautiful one." Darkness completely engulfed the woman, leaving Isabella in pitch black._

_The girl stopped and looked around before crying in anguish into the empty blackness. "Who are you?!" Sobbing softly, Isabella fell to her knees. This had been her third encounter with the mysterious woman, but she still couldn't figure out who she was._

Isabella awoke slightly disoriented in the hospital room. It was a stiflingly cold room, but Isabella found that she had been covered with extra blankets. She turned her head but, feeling a throbbing and piercing pain down to the center of her forehead, stopped with a wince and looked around using only her eyes.

There wasn't much to be seen. It was a simple hospital room with off-white linoleum, walls and ceiling. On one of the walls was a painting of three kittens in a basket. Isabella followed with her eyes the tube going into her arm up to the IV at the left of her bed, and then proceeded to follow the various sensors and their wires up to a machine at the right of her bed displaying her current vital signs. Her eyes then wandered to the brightly colored flower arrangement on the small table also to the right of the bed. A small glimmer then caught the girl's eyes, and almost unconsciously she reached for the other object on the table…

A sharp electronic shriek broke Isabella from her half-trance. One of the sensors had come loose from her skin, resulting in the vital monitor's noisy protest. As Isabella stared blankly, not unlike a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, a nurse hurried into the room to see the cause of the disturbance.

The nurse stopped for a moment, seeming slightly surprised, when she saw that Isabella was awake. The continued shrieking, however, reminded her why she had come into the room, so she briskly when to the noisy machine and pressed a few buttons, muting the alarm. "There," the nurse said, her gentle voice washing over Isabella with a strange familiarity, "we can clearly see that you haven't flatlined." The nurse shook her head slightly, her mellow brown hair silently shifting on her shoulders. "These machines are so touchy. One movement and the alarms go blaring off." Her attention turned to the girl in the bed. "So, how are you feeling? You've been out for a few days. With that crack in your head, I honestly figured you'd be out a little longer, pardon my saying that."

"That's quite alright." Isabella knew the nurse meant no harm by what she said. "I'm feeling fine, other than I can't move my head much without feeling a lot of pain."

"You received a minor concussion…" The nurse's words weaved in and out of audibility as Isabella's thoughts wandered. A few days… _Wait, where am I? What happened? How did I end up here? Why…_

"Isabella?"

The girl blinked and jerked slightly from her detached state. "Uh?" Was all she could muster for a moment before her mind stopped reeling. A dull realization hit her. "Wait, how do you know my name?" Misguided wariness came over her as the question repeated in her thoughts as her mind began to reel again.

"It's alright, Isabella. Father Nightroad told me everything." The nurse's eyes flickered and her voice blended with an almost motherly concern. "This is a special church-reserved segment of the hospital. All the staff members here are church workers…"

Father Nightroad… Isabella's hearing began to fade again. Her body convulsed at the lightning-flash memory and trembled at the dissolving darkness that overtook her days ago. In a violent spasm she fell off the bed before blackness swallowed up her sight. In her withering consciousness she faintly heard another voice in the room. "Magnolia, what happened?" A gentle, familiar voice. Father Nightroad… Magnolia?.. The nurse? No… I've heard that name before, seen that face... Where…

* * *

"Magnolia, what happened?" Abel had just walked into the room when Isabella was having a spasm. He stood dumbfounded for a moment before helping Magnolia lift the unconscious girl back onto the bed. Isabella's body wasn't heavy; it was just the fact that she was limp and attached to so many devices that made the task slightly difficult, although half of the sensors had been ripped off during her seizure.

"I'm not sure," Magnolia replied as they finished settling Isabella back on the bed, "She was conscious and seemed to be doing fine when I came in to check one of the sensors. We were even talking, although she zoned out a couple times. Then she just suddenly started having a seizure." She shook her head. "Perhaps she has more than a minor concussion."

The priest sighed. "Well, I suppose this means I'll have to hold off questioning for a while." He was worried for Isabella, while at the same time relieved he didn't have to subject her to interrogation for the time being.

"You don't really want to question her, do you, Father Nightroad?"

"Eh?" Abel looked puzzled by Magnolia's question.

"You don't want to have to question her or treat her like a criminal." The previously energetic and positive nurse suddenly seemed to take on a dragging weariness. She glanced for a moment at the guards just outside the door.

"I don't understand, Magnolia."

Magnolia heaved a strangely heavy sigh. "Abel, stop playing dumb. You know that I can know your every thought, and right now your thoughts are focusing on finding Isabella an escape into normal society." A fire flickered in her blue eyes, and Abel lowered his head in defeat. "Do you really think it would work, though? She was practically raised by the Orden, so there's no guarantee she'd be able to function in a regular society without reverting back to her old ways. And even if she didn't, wouldn't the Orden be after her, either to take her back or to kill her?"

Abel lowered his head further. Magnolia was absolutely right. There would be no possible way for Isabella to have a normal life. The priest glanced at the unconscious girl, watching her chest rise and fall. In any scenario he could think of, the Orden would have their dirty hands on her somehow. There was practically nothing he could do for her. Still, he wanted to try…

Heavy footsteps interrupted Abel's thoughts. Father Tres entered the room and looked at Magnolia with his usual deadpan expression. "Status report. What is Isabella Fae von Kampfer's current condition?"

Magnolia glanced at Isabella for a moment before answering, "She's been recovering at a normal rate, but she just had a seizure not too long ago." She shook her head. "I'm not sure when she'll be completely stable. It all depends on the extent of her concussion, and whether or not she continues to have seizures."

"Acknowledged." Tres's expression didn't change as he turned to Abel. "Father Nightroad, the Duchess of Milan requests that you finish your report of the incident immediately."

Abel simply nodded as he answered, "Understood, Tres." His drifting gaze slowly wandered back to the still unconscious Isabella; he didn't even notice Tres leave the room.

After a few seconds, Abel blinked, realizing he was staring. He turned his head and said to Magnolia, in a slightly rushed tone, "Well, I suppose I should go finish that report like Tres said." He grinned almost nervously as he stepped towards the door. Just as he had stepped outside, the silver-haired priest stuck his head back in the doorway. "Oh, and I'll probably come by again tomorrow."

"Abel," Magnolia mildly scolded him with a laugh, "quit stalling! You said you were going to go finish your report. So go do it already!" She smiled as the priest quickly shut his mouth and took off.

The smile slowly faded from Magnolia's face as she turned back towards the bed and the unconscious patient in it. She busied herself with reaffixing the sensors that had come off during Isabella's seizure. As she was making sure the IV was still properly inserted, a tiny glint drew her attention to the obsidian cross and gold chain lying on the bedside table.

Magnolia stopped what she was doing and lightly ran a finger over the cross. _No, it's not possible…_ On the cross she could feel most obviously the residual energy of the girl lying unaware in bed, but that wasn't what bothered her. Very faintly, almost undetectable, she could still feel a small trace of her own energy. Even fainter still… _Him._

* * *

"Well now, Isaak… You seem plenty cheerful now. There must be new developments." Dietrich glanced across the room to Kampfer. Indeed, the magician had an oddly warm expression on his face as he came to where Dietrich was seated.

"You are correct, Puppetmaster," came Kampfer's response. He tossed a bloodied pair of gloves on the table. Their delicate sizing and embroidered pentagrams distinctly identified their owner. "The dead do not purposefully drop their belongings."

"True. So then, where do you think our naughty little Trickster disappeared to?" Dietrich didn't seem impressed.

"She's probably being patched up somewhere." Wizard frowned as he pressed his cigarillo into the ashtray. "That high-voltage attack may have done a number to her thought process…"

"Oh come now. You know as well as I do that she's well known for her questionable means of doing things. Her title didn't come without reason."

"Ah, you're right," Kampfer's expression brightened again, "I'm not too worried, either way."

"Well, I'm not so carefree. You do realize that if this _is_ one of her crazy schemes, it could easily go awry."

"'Daring ideas are like chessmen moved forward; they may be beaten, but they may start a winning game.' –Goethe."

Dietrich tilted his head to the side, still not seeming satisfied with the answers he was getting. "So it still doesn't bother you that you could possibly lose her permanently this time?"

The magician only shrugged, his expression becoming more sober. "It was her choice. Whatever happens to her now is what she brought upon herself. If she's inviting her death, so be it."


End file.
